


Power Play

by emmaliza



Category: Take That (Band)
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Anal Sex, Angst and Porn, Bondage, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Guilt, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Lack of Communication, M/M, Oral Sex, Self-Esteem Issues, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:21:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22142461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaliza/pseuds/emmaliza
Summary: Howard lets Mark do everything he's too nice to do to anyone else.
Relationships: Howard Donald/Mark Owen
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	Power Play

In some ways, it's not so unlike the nineties, sneaking in and out of hotel rooms and worrying about the press. Howard gets a nostalgic buzz out of that which may well be misplaced.

Mark was never like this in the nineties though, he was always so gentle, so sweet. Howard's not sure what changed. “There you are,” he growls as soon as soon as Howard walks through his door, pushing him up against the wall with every inch of power in his small frame. “You're late. I've been waiting.”

_You're one to talk,_ Howard wants to tell him, but that's only going to get him in more trouble. Mark grabs him by the back of his neck and forces him into a rough kiss, his lips tasting of white win. Mark has always been drinking when they do this, and history tells Howard he ought to say something about that, but he has no idea what.

Howard moans into his mouth, stiffening in his pants like he's not nearly forty now, and Mark notices immediately. “You're so needy,” he breaks away to whisper, with a fond grin. Fair enough. There's a reason Mark lets his inner bastard out on him, and not any of the others. “You want this? You want me?” Howard just whimpers. “Get on your knees.”

He does as he's told. He always does as he's told. He sucks Mark's cock, lets him fuck his face and pull his hair, everything he's too nice to pull on anyone else. He feels half-choked when Mark orders him up and onto the bed.

Mark ties him there with a thick leather belt, leaves him spread out for his personal appreciation. Howard doesn't mind. They've done this before, and he always enjoys the sensation of being kept in place.

“You're still sexy, Howard,” Mark whispers, looming over him like a storm cloud. “And you know it. Getting your arse out for all the world to see. Haven't changed a bit, have you?”

Howard bites his lip. He wonders if that bothers Mark. He knows Mark still worries about never being seen as anything but the cute one, the innocent-looking pretty boy until the day he dies – exchangeable and replaceable. Howard can't really fault him for that.

When he doesn't answer, Mark works two slicked fingers into him, making him cry out. “That's it. Our big tough manly man, so desperate to be fucked,” he coos as Howard instinctively bucks toward his stroking. He moans, tears forming in his eyes. He's never exactly felt tough. “Tell me you want me.”

“I want you,” he gasps. He thinks that's what Mark wants, to be wanted. To be wanted as something other than the twink in the crop top from 1993, even. Howard can give him that. He's a generous soul, and it's hardly much of a price to pay for what he's getting.

He still wonders sometimes whether Mark really wants to be back at all. He's heard Mark's solo records, he knows he still feels the passion for his music – much more than he did in the nineties. There's another world out there where it's Mark with the big solo career, who got up and left them all behind, and Howard can't help but dread the thought he still might want that.

Howard barely survived being left behind once, and would do anything to make them stay. Anything.

“Louder.”

“I want you!” Howard's a shy guy, this isn't easy for him, but if it's what Mark needs. “Just fuck me, Marko, do what you want, take me, don't make me beg.”

“Shh.” Mark kisses him again, soothing him just as a sob threatens to escape his mouth. When they pull apart, there's a flicker of guilt in his eye. “You're perfect.”

Mark's cock is much bigger than you'd expect to look for him, and Howard gasps in pleasure and pain as he's split in two on it. Mark doesn't give him time to adjust anymore, just pounds away until they're both left brainless.

( _What else is new?_ he can imagine Nige saying.)

He moans and squirms against the belt, but he's not trying to escape. Mark pants in his ear. “Little bitch. Willing, desperate, pathetic little bitch. You'd give yourself to anybody who wants you, huh?”

Howard flinches, but he tries not to take it personally. He doesn't think Mark is talking to him.

He lets Mark come inside him, swearing, head of his cock jabbing roughly at Howard's prostate and making him spill all over himself. He looks a right mess.

After a few seconds to get their breath back, Mark unshackles him from the leather belt, red marks left in its wake. Like that, Sweet Little Markie is back, grabbing a wet washer from the bedside table to clean the come from Howard's abs gently ( _he must have planned that,_ thinks Howard). His baby blue eyes shine with guilt. “Are you okay?”

Howard gulps. “Yeah.” He not sure he is, really, but he knows Mark would never forgive himself if he told him that. “Don't you worry about me.” After all these years, he still worries about Mark.

Mark doesn't look like he believes him, but he smiles, leaning their foreheads together. “Thank you.”

That makes Howard smile back. “C'mere.” He wraps his arms around Mark, pulls him back onto the bed, and Mark, without saying a word, gives him what he needs. He lets him cling.


End file.
